


Ravenous

by kellybellefiction



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 08:00:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5820535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kellybellefiction/pseuds/kellybellefiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Peeta's name was drawn the day of the reaping for the third quarter quell? And what if Haymitch volunteered to take his place? Takes place during Catching Fire. Haymitch/Katniss, Hayniss, Haymiss, Aberdeen</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ravenous

Appetites reach all time highs  
No ones seems to care who dies  
Prey on every little thing in sight  
To kill or be Killed state of mind  
Anything to stay alive  
Never ever show your terrified

It's a common casualty  
To trust in what you see  
Saints and Scholars  
Don't even bother  
The bullet in the blood  
Came from those you love  
Friendly fires  
Death by a liar

Dumb, Deaf and Blind  
(Dumb, Deaf and Blind)  
Fall back in line  
(Fall back in line)

Now is the time  
To open your eyes  
You need it, you want,  
You did it, You got it  
So act you own it this time  
The coma of lies  
Comfort your mind  
Your feeding the fire  
And bleeding desire  
It's down to the wire this time

Focus now on how to gain  
Loyalty from enemies  
Waiting patiently for when to strike

The bullet in the blood  
Came from those you trust  
Friendly Fires  
Death by a liar

Dumb, Deaf and Blind  
(Dumb, Deaf and Blind)  
Fall back in line  
(Fall back in line)

Now is the time  
To open your eyes  
You need it, you want it,  
You did it, you got it  
So act you own it this time  
The coma of lies  
Comfort your mind  
Your feeding the fire  
And bleeding desire  
It's down to the wire this time

Now is the Time (Ravenous)

By: 10 Years

A/N: Hi there everyone! This is my first attempt at a Hunger Games fic, so please be kind! I found the Haymitch/Katniss ship recently, and just can't seem to let it go! So I got the idea of what would happen if Haymitch were to volunteer in Peeta's place? This will be a relatively slow burn, but that could always change. My characters tend to get a mind of their own and run away on me. Please please please leave a review and let me know what you think!

I also really recommend listening to the song that I based this story on. It'll help establish the tone.

Enjoy!

 

It was time for the reaping of the Tributes to participate in the 75th annual Hunger Games. It was the third Quarter Quell, and the former victors were pissed. It had been announced the day before that the tributes would be drawn from the pool of former victors, meaning they would have to re-enter the games—a prospect that greatly upset the districts.

District 12 was no exception. The other districts could even say this was a direct result of the most famous citizen of the district—Katniss Everdeen. They could say that, but they wouldn't. She was their mockingjay, unbeknownst to her. She had been the cause of unrest within the districts, and Snow wanted her dead.

So there they stood on the stage, Katniss, Peeta, and Haymitch Abernathy, the latter being surprisingly sober for the event. Effie was there as usual, looking uncomfortable.

"As usual, ladies first," she said with as much flourish as she could muster, walking over to the clear bowl with one single slip of paper. "This year's female tribute is Katniss Everdeen."

Nobody in the massive crowd clapped. There was dead silence. In the front row, however, Prim and Mrs. Everdeen raised three fingers to their lips, and then lifted them to the sky. The rest of District 12 followed suit.

"And now, for the men," Effie said, reaching in to the other clear bowl. "This year's male tribute is Peeta Mellark."

As Peeta walked forward though, Katniss heard a voice saying something she never imagined.

"I volunteer!"

It was her and Peeta's former mentor, Haymitch Abernathy, who also grew to be one of her closest friends.

"I can't let you do this," Peeta said angrily, "I have to protect her."

Haymitch merely patted the boys shoulder, gave him a small smirk, and took his place next to the Girl on Fire.

XOXOXOXO

To say the train ride wasn't awkward would have been a lie. The three of us are on our way to the Capitol, and deprived the chance to say goodbye to our family—well, my family. Haymitch doesn't have any family that anyone knew of.

Even though Peeta is now our "mentor", we are both still looking to Haymitch for answers.

"What do we do?" I finally ask, putting my second glass of Capitol liquor down.

"We survive, Sweetheart," Haymitch says with his usual sarcastic tone.

"Yes, but how do you plan on keeping us alive?"

"Keeping us alive? That ain't my job anymore, Sweetheart. That's Peeta's responsibility. He's the one who'll be on the outside," he says bitingly.

I go to grab my drink again, but notice it's gone.

"You've had enough," is all Haymitch says when I glare over at him.

The next person to get the brunt of my glare is Peeta. I want him to say something. Anything to help devise a plan. When he just shrugs his shoulders, we go quiet again. I look out the windows and watch the terrain go by, and think about how the hell we'll manage to get out of this situation.

The silence isn't broken until we're just outside the Capitol. Effie finally joins us in the train car, and sits down next to me, grasping my hand.

"I think," she says, "we need to show our solidarity. I have my gold hair, Katniss has her gold mockingjay pin, you boys need something gold." By the end of her speech, she's beginning to cry.

"I think that's really sweet Effie," I say with as much of a smile as I can muster. She pats my hand and stands up, signaling it is time to depart the train.

The Capitol looks like it always has—ostentatious. The people with their outrageous plastic surgery, glamourous clothing, and bizarre makeup. As we step off the train, the crowds cheer, making me sick to my stomach. I look around me in disbelief at these people. These smug Capitolites who never had to have their children participate in the games. These people who would never worry about starving or freezing to death, or being killed in a mining accident because the government didn't care enough to implement safety measures. No. These people are disillusioned. They don't know any better, not really, but I don't care.

Right when I open my mouth and am about to say something I feel a strong arm wrap around my shoulders and begin to steer me away from the crowd.

"Peeta…" I begin, but when I look up, it's Haymitch guiding me away from the swarm of people.

"Sweetheart, now isn't the time to piss people off," Haymitch says, his breath tickling the back of my neck, "you're still going to need sponsors, and trust me, Lover Boy doesn't have the know-how to manipulate these people. You need all the help you can get."

I wrench myself out of his grasp, "I charmed them last time."

He lets out a loud, barking laugh, "Sweetheart, Peeta did all the work that time. He made them like you. You've got to do this on your own this time."

"And what about you?" I ask him, challenging him with my eyes.

"They're too afraid of me."

"And why is that?"

The laughter instantly disappears from Haymitch's eyes then, and he turns away, releasing my arm.

When we finally make it to the training center, Haymitch has warmed back up to me a little bit. As soon as I asked him that question I knew it was unbelievably stupid. Of course he wouldn't want to talk about his games. He never talks about them. I've never even seen them. I know, though, that I'll be in more than capable hands if he actually teams up with me in the arena. He didn't win the 50th games by sheer luck.

The center is just like I remember it. It's huge with many rooms. More rooms than I can even count. Of course, we're on the twelfth floor, since we're the twelfth district.

Stepping in to the room is surreal. This time last year Peeta and I had been in this exact same room, with Haymitch as our mentor. This time, though, the roles are reversed. I'm just happy that Peeta will be safe. Haymitch was right when he said I could never deserve Peeta.

Haymitch and I are both broken, with too many scars. We both killed too many innocents. Peeta never had to kill. He left the games unscathed, for the most part. I don't resent him, not really. I just want him to live the life he deserves.

As horrible as it sounds, Haymitch and I are the better options to die, if that's the way it had to be. The alcoholic and the girl with psychological scars.

I spend that first night locked in my room. I can't face anybody—especially not Peeta. I know he still loves me, and he still believes the act during the games. Although, I guess for him it wasn't quite an act. I'm glad he's not going in with me again. I know I can take care of myself, and I know Haymitch can take care of himself. It'll just make survival that much easier. I won't say that to Peeta though.

That night, I drift into a restless sleep, filled with nightmares.

The next morning I wake up and dress myself in the skin tight jeans and yellow low cut flowing shirt the Capitol provided. My District 12 clothing apparently wasn't good enough for the Capitol.

I walk out to the dining room to join the others for breakfast, and notice that a place is already set up for me, with food waiting on a plate. It smelled absolutely amazing. As soon as I sit down I dig into the food in front of me, savoring every bite. I know I'll appreciate the extra bit of weight once I'm in the arena. I can't help but wonder what it will look like.

"So Peeta, how are you going to train us this morning?" Haymitch asks Peeta with thinly veiled disdain. He knows Peeta can't actually help us.

Peeta turns crimson under Haymitch's glare, and I kick Haymitch under the table. He volunteered, after all.

"I uh, actually thought you guys would train on your own today. Tomorrow we'll do one-on-one training, and then the interviews are the last day…I figured you guys can help each other out today, teach each other your own unique skills," Peeta says.

Haymitch and I nod in unison. We spare a glance at each other, not wanting to push Peeta, but we both know that if we have any chance of surviving, Haymitch needs to coach Peeta on how to be a mentor. He needs to know how to work the sponsors and how to pull on their emotions. He at least has the advantage of being the "star-crossed lover" of Katniss Everdeen.

On the way down to the training arena, Haymitch talks to Katniss about the other tributes.

"Now, this is going to be a whole new games," he says seriously. "These are all seasoned killers, not some kids who have never held a weapon before. Your best bet is to form an alliance. Now, I know all of these people, so when we go in there, let me do the talking, okay sweetheart?"

"Yeah, fine," I say. I would never admit to him, but I'm nervous as hell.

As we walk into the arena, I see all of the other tributes practicing their chosen skill. I look around, and decide that I want none of the Careers—too much of a loose canon. I keep walking until I see Wiress and Beetee in a corner trying to start a fire.

"You need to go faster," I say, "and move your hands lower as you spin it."

Beetee does as I say, and I smile when his and Wiress's eyes light up with delight. When the fire is lit, Beetee points up at the balcony and chuckles.

"Ah, forcefield," he says knowingly, "electromagnetic, by the looks of it."

"Wait, how can you tell?" I ask, straining to see the invisible wall. "Is it obvious or something?"

"Obvious?" the two of them laugh together. "The corner of the table. There's a shimmer."

Once he points it out, it's so obvious. It's rippling like a heat wave. "That's probably my fault. I shot an arrow up there last year."

After I finish with Wiress and Beetee, I find Haymitch in front of an area with stuffed dummies, however, the dummies are filled with throwing knives. He doesn't hear me walk up, apparently. He just keeps throwing the knives mindlessly.

"I didn't know this is how you won," I say offhandedly.

"It isn't. But that's not a story for in here, sweetheart. Maybe if we both survive I'll tell it to you," he says, returning his attention to the dummies.

"Can you show me how?" I ask him in amazement. I've never seen anyone so accurate with a knife before in my entire life.

He nods his head, motioning for me to take his place in front of the dummies.

"Now, make sure your stance is firm, like you're going to shoot your bow."

I do as he says and put my legs shoulder width apart, my left leg slightly in front of the right.

When I get into position, I feel him come up behind me. "Next, grab your knife loosely by the end of the handle. You want to make sure it can fly and flip."

As he says this, he puts his arms around my own, holding my hands the correct way, making my shoulders loosen up. By now, his mouth is right by the back of my neck, and I feel chills work their way down my spine when he moves even closer to me to help me actually throw the knives.

Although, if I'm being completely honest with myself, I'm not thinking about the damned knives anymore. I'm thinking about the proximity, the feeling of him being right behind me, the feeling of his strong arms surrounding me. I feel as safe as I have in my entire life.

When the knife leaves my hand and burrows itself into the dummy in front of me, the trance is broken, and it seems as though Haymitch finally realizes the proximity between us.

"Nice job, sweetheart," he says with his usual shit-eating grin.

I make my way over to the woman I know is named Mags. When I find her, I see that she's making intricate fishing lures. "They're beautiful," I tell her.

She smiles at me warmly.

"I saw what you did for that young girl. That was really brave of you," I tell her earnestly. When she volunteered for Annie Cresta, I felt nothing but admiration for the woman. "If you teach me how to make fishing lures like that, I can teach you how to hunt," I suggest.

She nods her head eagerly and shows me the basics of making a lure. I'm sure I'll be able to use this skill at some point in the arena.

When I take her over to the simulation area, I pick up my weapon of choice—a bow. I walk into the glass room and shut the door behind me. I hear the room count down, and then I'm surrounded by block versions of people. I expertly pull my bow back and shoot. One of the "people" throws a spear at me, and I do a roll on the ground, sitting back up to shoot them with my bow. When I'm done destroying all of the simulated opponents, I look out the windows and see every last tribute watching me, clapping.

XOXOXOXO

"Well, sweetheart, seems like you made quite the impression today. You have the pick of the litter," Haymitch says proudly as we sit down on the couch after a long day of training.

Peeta is there with us, knowing he needs to report back to the other mentors which tributes I'll be joining an alliance with.

"I want Wiress and Beetee," I tell Haymitch.

His look falters for a moment before he shakes himself out of it. "Okay, anyone else?"

"Mags," I say sheepishly, knowing this isn't the answer he's looking for. I understand where he's coming from. This'll be his alliance too.

"I'll just tell the other mentors you're still making up your mind," Peeta says before sitting down with us on the couch. "So, tomorrow we'll do our one-on-one training. I want that to be mainly strategy. There's nothing that I can teach either of you about combat that you don't already know, so I'm not going to waste my time."

I'm grateful that he says that—I didn't want the day to be wasted with worthless training that was unnecessary.

The rest of the evening, we mainly just sit together, enjoying each other's company, knowing that it could be on of the last times we're all still alive.


End file.
